"So you were here." The faint sound of her voice, all too familiar to him even under the sound of raindrops. Turning around to face the source, he spoke calmly.
"What a sight for sore eyes. To think that you'd be the one to corner me... Bedivere."
"Surely, you jest. Only you and I know of this secret grove, discovered by chance. Not even the Grand Mage has eyes of this place. I was almost certain that you would try to hide here now that the knights are on high alert... and my intuition was right."
"Well done." A monotonous response from the spearman resulted in a moment of silene as the sound of rain persisted. The young maiden, clad in armor and weapon, was clearly disheartened by his actions; the man could see it in her pallid orbs. She put out her toughest front, firm in her decision to confront him, as a knight who pledged for the safety of their kingdom, regardless of personal affairs.
"The act of treason against Plim is reprehensible, Sir Lamorak. Aiding in the unshackling of the Witch of Wrath, along with compromising our foothold against the enemy. An explanation for such is in order, as your former comrade-in-arms.
"Do I even need a reason? Hmmm, if I had to think of one, maybe... it was because it didn't work out for me here?" The disgraced knight gave a half-assed reply to her inquiry, pinning himself guilty as charged.
"You swore an oath you couldn't keep in the first place...?" Bedivere's voice remained calm, though her facial expression betrayed her evident tranquil fury.
"And what of it? In the end, oaths are nothing but words uttered from one's lips. Let this be my last lesson to you. Casting doubt on everyone you know, no matter how close, would be a wise decision. You are a fool who easily fell victim to lies guised under virtue. Like mine."
"..." The redhead drew silence yet glared at the traitor, his lack of dignity and loyalty clear. Bedivere was unable to comprehend that the man before him wasn't the same Lamorak that she held dear. However, she maintained her composure with closed eyes and a deep exhale. The mole was adamant in his decision to make her and the entirety of Plim his enemy. No amount of dialogue would bring him back to their side, nor express his guilt. At this point, they know what followed suit.
"So I take it you won't surrender in peace...?" Bedivere coldly inquired, placing her hand on the hilt of the sheathed blade on her waist. Lamorak, in return, answered her motion by spinning and twirling his favored polearm; his gaze focused on the female knight who he once shared memories with.
"That need not be given an answer, don't you think? Even if I explained my actions, what's done is done. This is how it should be." At that exact moment, as if their timing were flawlessly in tandem, she drew out her royal saber and raised front, assuming her elegant posture while the spearman readied himself, his own distinguished stance and his spear facing forward.
"Just this once... show me that you've retained at least some level of chivalry as a knight, my old friend?"
"... No promises."
"EN GUARDE!"
"EN GUARDE!"
They howled in unison.
"What a sight for sore eyes. To think that you'd be the one to corner me... Bedivere."
"Surely, you jest. Only you and I know of this secret grove, discovered by chance. Not even the Grand Mage has eyes of this place. I was almost certain that you would try to hide here now that the knights are on high alert... and my intuition was right."
"Well done." A monotonous response from the spearman resulted in a moment of silene as the sound of rain persisted. The young maiden, clad in armor and weapon, was clearly disheartened by his actions; the man could see it in her pallid orbs. She put out her toughest front, firm in her decision to confront him, as a knight who pledged for the safety of their kingdom, regardless of personal affairs.
"The act of treason against Plim is reprehensible, Sir Lamorak. Aiding in the unshackling of the Witch of Wrath, along with compromising our foothold against the enemy. An explanation for such is in order, as your former comrade-in-arms.
"Do I even need a reason? Hmmm, if I had to think of one, maybe... it was because it didn't work out for me here?" The disgraced knight gave a half-assed reply to her inquiry, pinning himself guilty as charged.
"You swore an oath you couldn't keep in the first place...?" Bedivere's voice remained calm, though her facial expression betrayed her evident tranquil fury.
"And what of it? In the end, oaths are nothing but words uttered from one's lips. Let this be my last lesson to you. Casting doubt on everyone you know, no matter how close, would be a wise decision. You are a fool who easily fell victim to lies guised under virtue. Like mine."
"..." The redhead drew silence yet glared at the traitor, his lack of dignity and loyalty clear. Bedivere was unable to comprehend that the man before him wasn't the same Lamorak that she held dear. However, she maintained her composure with closed eyes and a deep exhale. The mole was adamant in his decision to make her and the entirety of Plim his enemy. No amount of dialogue would bring him back to their side, nor express his guilt. At this point, they know what followed suit.
"So I take it you won't surrender in peace...?" Bedivere coldly inquired, placing her hand on the hilt of the sheathed blade on her waist. Lamorak, in return, answered her motion by spinning and twirling his favored polearm; his gaze focused on the female knight who he once shared memories with.
"That need not be given an answer, don't you think? Even if I explained my actions, what's done is done. This is how it should be." At that exact moment, as if their timing were flawlessly in tandem, she drew out her royal saber and raised front, assuming her elegant posture while the spearman readied himself, his own distinguished stance and his spear facing forward.
"Just this once... show me that you've retained at least some level of chivalry as a knight, my old friend?"
"... No promises."
"EN GUARDE!"
"EN GUARDE!"
They howled in unison.
